I'm sitting here at 4:30am writting this. I woke up dying of thirst. My heart rate? Ridiculously high, I don't even want to write it here, as I'm so scared of it. This has made me make a decision. I have an appointment on the 28th for an ECG to check my heart out - at Cookridge. It was mentioned that if they admitted me it would be at St. James'. This tells me that they are obviously concerned and with my current state I fully expect them to admit me.
As unpleasant as it will be, to go through two ESHAPs and a stem cell transplant - provided they don't change the regime - I think it needs to be done. I can't live like this anymore, in denial of what's going on. Hoping, and attributing clear cancer symptoms to other things. My immune system is weak, I got shingles. I have had night sweats, although these seem to be improving, for the past few months. And now this, tachycardia, as it is called. Typing Hodgkin's and tachycardia into Google comes up with plenty of results. Not to mention the lumps under my right arm.
I'm hoping my mum will stay over and let my Dad drive back to France on his own, so she can be bring me healthy, and tasty, food to the hospital. And the odd freshly squeezed fruit and vegetable juices.
This sucks. Hopefully I'll be up and running by summer...I'll let you know what happens.
Sunday, December 24, 2006
Friday, December 22, 2006
from bad to worse
I have been slowly improving from the shingles attack. The numbness hasn't all gone in my back but I no longer have the associated spine pain. Presumably this is to do with the chinese herbal pills I was given since it cleared up fairly quickly once I started on those.
Now I have a new problem. For a while now I have been getting tired when walking up stairs and to the high street, at the top of a hill called the Steep, just outside my home. I've needed a rest for things I used to run up just a couple of months ago. Maybe I should have picked up on it sooner, but I was laying in bed the other night, all relaxed, when I realised my heart was going like the clappers. I'm talking 100 beats a minute.
I've come accross this before, in late 2005 I was rushed into hospital with fluid around my heart and lungs - I had extreme water retention. My legs were like elephant legs, with no sign of ankle, and I had a bit of a spare tire 'round my waist. I was extremely tired all the time and required a good 4 hour sleep every afternoon. I went to Holland to see my Grandparents and while I was gone Imelda was so worried about me she booked me in for an urgent CT scan. I knew straight away something was wrong, apart from the inability to walk 20 meters without catching my breath, the oncologist came running out the moment the CT scan was finished. She said I had to go to hopsital immediately. I was admitted straight away and was started on chemotherpay, which I had been avoiding for 6 months, and presumably a cocktail of other drugs, in a private room. I spent a week in there and slowly recovered. My resting heart rate at the time was nearing 120bpm.
This time the symptoms aren't nearly as bad and I've caught it farily early on. But why? I have had an appointment made for the 28th of December, this may include an ultrasound to see the extent of the fluid. In addition to that I have a CT scan on the 11th of January.
I have contacted my homeopathic doctor who told me to get it checked out at the conventional doctor in the first place. I have been prescribed some New Era tablets that help dissipate fluid build up. I guess I have about a week to get this under control...
I am very worried about though. The odds are that the cancer is back. I recently promised myself that I wouldn't have any more chemotherapy. That if I was meant to die, I would die. I have no fear of death in the slightest, but every time I think of how Imelda will cope and how my family and friends will cope I cry. I feel like I don't want to let them down. But I'm so tired of this. I know people go through a lot worse and make it through. Maybe I'm weak, but I don't want to have to start a new battle. Who knows what I'll say or think when I get the results of the scans, maybe I'll have new fight, but the thought of going into hopsital and having pipes stuck into me and being hooked up to machines for 8 hours a day, followed by a month in almost solitary confinement frightens the life out of me. I just imagine myself laying there, with no emotion on my face. Equally, if it is back, and I decide to not have conventional treatment and my alternatives don't work then it's not going to be a nice quiet death. I imagine it would get quite painful toward the end.
What's the lesser of two evils? The truth is, I want to live, not being afraid of dying is not choosing to die. I have a lot to do with my life. Various sources have told me of a child I will father, be it my own or adopted. The general consensus in the hippy crowd (as some would call them) is that I will live. But that's not given, I still have to work for it, and making this decision is all part of it. Logically, I decided against chemo and a stem cell transplant in the past and it was got me no-where (apart from a fun summer). Maybe it is time I went the whole hog and see where that takes me.
How many times is this decision going to come 'round?
Now I have a new problem. For a while now I have been getting tired when walking up stairs and to the high street, at the top of a hill called the Steep, just outside my home. I've needed a rest for things I used to run up just a couple of months ago. Maybe I should have picked up on it sooner, but I was laying in bed the other night, all relaxed, when I realised my heart was going like the clappers. I'm talking 100 beats a minute.
I've come accross this before, in late 2005 I was rushed into hospital with fluid around my heart and lungs - I had extreme water retention. My legs were like elephant legs, with no sign of ankle, and I had a bit of a spare tire 'round my waist. I was extremely tired all the time and required a good 4 hour sleep every afternoon. I went to Holland to see my Grandparents and while I was gone Imelda was so worried about me she booked me in for an urgent CT scan. I knew straight away something was wrong, apart from the inability to walk 20 meters without catching my breath, the oncologist came running out the moment the CT scan was finished. She said I had to go to hopsital immediately. I was admitted straight away and was started on chemotherpay, which I had been avoiding for 6 months, and presumably a cocktail of other drugs, in a private room. I spent a week in there and slowly recovered. My resting heart rate at the time was nearing 120bpm.
This time the symptoms aren't nearly as bad and I've caught it farily early on. But why? I have had an appointment made for the 28th of December, this may include an ultrasound to see the extent of the fluid. In addition to that I have a CT scan on the 11th of January.
I have contacted my homeopathic doctor who told me to get it checked out at the conventional doctor in the first place. I have been prescribed some New Era tablets that help dissipate fluid build up. I guess I have about a week to get this under control...
I am very worried about though. The odds are that the cancer is back. I recently promised myself that I wouldn't have any more chemotherapy. That if I was meant to die, I would die. I have no fear of death in the slightest, but every time I think of how Imelda will cope and how my family and friends will cope I cry. I feel like I don't want to let them down. But I'm so tired of this. I know people go through a lot worse and make it through. Maybe I'm weak, but I don't want to have to start a new battle. Who knows what I'll say or think when I get the results of the scans, maybe I'll have new fight, but the thought of going into hopsital and having pipes stuck into me and being hooked up to machines for 8 hours a day, followed by a month in almost solitary confinement frightens the life out of me. I just imagine myself laying there, with no emotion on my face. Equally, if it is back, and I decide to not have conventional treatment and my alternatives don't work then it's not going to be a nice quiet death. I imagine it would get quite painful toward the end.
What's the lesser of two evils? The truth is, I want to live, not being afraid of dying is not choosing to die. I have a lot to do with my life. Various sources have told me of a child I will father, be it my own or adopted. The general consensus in the hippy crowd (as some would call them) is that I will live. But that's not given, I still have to work for it, and making this decision is all part of it. Logically, I decided against chemo and a stem cell transplant in the past and it was got me no-where (apart from a fun summer). Maybe it is time I went the whole hog and see where that takes me.
How many times is this decision going to come 'round?
Friday, December 08, 2006
running on empty
I'm not doing all that great at the moment. I feel constantly run down, I sweat most nights, my kidney's ache, I have a lump under my right arm, and my temperature keeps going up.
Doesn't sound to good does it. In fact all of the symptoms are of the Hodgkin's coming back. The thing is, my homeopathic and radionic doctor doesn't think it's back, and my chinese medicine doctor doesn't think it is back.
Right or wrong, I trust them both implicitly and am going with what they say. You may think I'm mad, and maybe I am, but I can only trust my gut instinct. When my logical head kicks in it just gets in the way and makes me all depressed.
I saw on the news the other night that a 16 year old girl had decided to refuse luekemia treatment and to die at home. She was given an award by a cancer charity for her bravery. How different attitudes can be at different hospitals. Good luck to her.
Doesn't sound to good does it. In fact all of the symptoms are of the Hodgkin's coming back. The thing is, my homeopathic and radionic doctor doesn't think it's back, and my chinese medicine doctor doesn't think it is back.
Right or wrong, I trust them both implicitly and am going with what they say. You may think I'm mad, and maybe I am, but I can only trust my gut instinct. When my logical head kicks in it just gets in the way and makes me all depressed.
I saw on the news the other night that a 16 year old girl had decided to refuse luekemia treatment and to die at home. She was given an award by a cancer charity for her bravery. How different attitudes can be at different hospitals. Good luck to her.
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